


A Painful Peace

by MichyStar



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4926148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MichyStar/pseuds/MichyStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blackwall spends the night watching the rain, reflecting on his relationship with Inquisitor Lavellan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Painful Peace

**Author's Note:**

> I...have not written anything in a while so this is definitely not my best. That being said I do hope that those of your who read it still manage to enjoy it! 
> 
> I tried to make Lavellan as generic as possible, detail wise, but in case you were curious the Inquisitor I had in mind while writing this was my own, Zheren (https://41.media.tumblr.com/84cbe981dc823c7979573840b6b4f0d0/tumblr_nvh328EaiO1sjqygzo1_540.jpg)!
> 
> And to clear something up, in my mind Blackwall/Lavellan/Josie is a true and real thing so.

This was all new to him. In the past he’d had a special girl or two, but life as a soldier in Orlais more often than not meant that he’d find himself returning home to a brothel, not a particular woman.

To go from countless women with slight variations of what in the end amounted to be the same name to this—it felt like a dream. A dream too good to be true.

A dream that would, like many of his _actual_ dreams have gone, end with him waking up in a prison cell. Deep down, part of him wished for that to be true. Better to be blissfully ignorant for a few hours than painfully aware of the reality of the situation at all times, in his opinion. Even though he thought this, it was, again, deep down. The main concern for him now was to help the man sharing his tent with any issues to come.

There was a world to save. His cell would have to wait for now. Whether that wait was for a few more years or a few more days he didn’t know. Only tomorrow would tell.

“Can’t sleep?”

The rumble of a voice draws Blackwall’s attention away from the shadows of raindrops slipping down the tent roof. His lips press together for a moment before relaxing into something that could be considered a smile.

“I’m just…thinking. About how unending this rain is.”

“Is it the nightmares?”

His attempt at a smile falls then, and his brows follow and he knows that if Sera were around she’d point and say this is exactly what people meant when they say he sometimes looks like a sad mabari.

The change of expression isn’t missed by Lavellan—elf eyes truly are something, once you stop letting them scare the piss out of you at night—but Blackwall speaks before he can. It’s pinched and a little rough around the edges, but, he’ll understand. He always does. Sometimes Blackwall can’t help but hate him for that.

“No, just sometimes a man needs a good rain listening before bed. Besides, same could be asked of you. You were being noisy.”

“…Was I snoring too loud?”

His worried tone doesn’t match the deepness of his voice, but then again the deepness of his voice doesn’t seem to match his boyish features. Lavellan is full of contradictions, but it’s what makes him special. Blackwall’s contradictions make him a monster.

“Truth?”

“Always.”

Even with the feeling of a sudden punch to the gut he manages another smile, more natural this time. He even squeezes out a chuckle.

“Yes, it was your snoring.”

There’s a beat of silence in the tent before it becomes filled with soft laughter. Two battle hardened warriors, laughing and exchanging words in such a childish way. It made him feel normal, and it almost made him feel safe, both from the outside world and from his thoughts.

Bright eyes move closer to him, and soon enough Lavellan is so close that Blackwall very well could count the number of tattooed dots adorning his cheeks. Trace the branches of his vallaslin with a thumb. Maybe even his mouth.

Warm, slightly sour breath brushes his cheek before a weight settles onto his shoulder. A hand finds its way into his own. This touchiness isn’t uncommon for them, especially on these long trips. He always tries to dissuade Lavellan from it, but the elf never listens.

Like this, Blackwall could almost imagine that it was just him and Lavellan out here by themselves. He knew better than to think that though, for Josephine always seemed to know, without even asking, how selfish he’d been while they were away.

The thought of seeing Josephine again warms him for the briefest of moments. Then the tiny voice in the back of his head reminds him of their situation, of their mission objective for tomorrow, and that warmness fades. Blackwall tightens his hold on Lavellan's hand ever so slightly.

“Lady Josephine will be upset if I bring you back with even larger bags under your eyes. Go back to sleep.”

“Ha—she worries when I get a paper cut…Which I thought was silly until she told me a story about a noble who’d been sliced by a poisoned piece of paper. Can you believe it?”

“I can. Actually, may know the sorry sod she was talking about. Either way…we have to get up early tomorrow. So, come on, back to sleep.”

The roof of the tent was low and so he crawled back to their bedrolls, pushed together to form one large mattress. Blackwall tugged on the other’s hand until he fell beside him. When he let go Lavellan wasted no time in rolling closer and throwing a leg and arm over him.

“Good night.” He punctuates this with a kiss to his cheek before scooting closer till there was no room left between them.

For an elf he is stronger than one would think, and yet for a warrior he is softer than one would expect. _Contradictions,_ the voice in the back of Blackwall’s mind says again. _Much nicer ones than yours_.

“Good night.” He presses his lips together once more, but this time covers it by kissing the gold painted forehead in front of him.

With the rain and their breathing as background noise, Blackwall closes his eyes and begins to drift off. Before sleep can wash over him he hears, feels, one final whisper come from beside him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find your badge tomorrow.”


End file.
